Grass on the Georgia coast has opinions — it wants height, it wants a sharp cut, and it wants to be left alone about a day longer than most people think. lawn teacher works Georgetown yards on that logic: mow on a rhythm the turf can keep, edge the concrete until the boundary reads clean, trim what the deck cannot reach, and carry the clippings off instead of leaving them to bake. Summer here is one long humid push from May to September; winter is a handful of frosty mornings that burn off by nine. Both ends of that calendar ask something different of a lawn, and the schedule bends to meet them. The result is the plain kind of lovely — even color, level cut, straight lines to the driveway.